Another Fine Mess
by Ahn-Li Steffraini
Summary: When Gibbs is abducted from his home, McGee takes the lead of the team to find him. Takes place immediately after the S7 Episode Faith
1. Chapter 1

**Another Fine Mess**  
**_NCIS Fan Fiction  
by Ahn-Li Steffraini_**

**Author's Note**: Written for the "Another Fine Mess" Challenge on the NFA Storyboard. Only almost two years past the deadline for judging, but I saw that there was no answers to this orphaned challenge, and it piqued my interest. So I'll answer it anyway.

**Summary**: When Gibbs goes missing, the entire team mobilizes to find him. But is there something else to this?

* * * * * * * * *

The day was a clear one, but cold. Timothy McGee was one of the many in the parking lot of his apartment complex cleaning off his car of snow and ice. One of these days he would learn. His boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, had seen him cleaning off his car one afternoon and told him to cover the car in a tarp. Remove tarp, remove the snow. Job done.

One of these days he would take the advice.

Speaking of Gibbs...

The night before he had been asked the strangest thing before leaving work. Actually they all had, and the other members of Gibbs' team had been slightly surprised by the request...

* * * *

The night before  
NCIS, Navy Yard  
MCRT area of bullpen

After Gibbs called it for the day, everyone got up and began to get ready to go home. For a moment Gibbs hesitated, then he asked, "Any of you got a spare seat tomorrow morning for the ride in?"

They had looked at him, puzzled, before Ziva asked, "Why?"

"Well, my truck is finally dead. I have a ride home with Ducky, but he's going to away at a conference after that, so I don't exactly have a ride in," he answered.

"I thought you had a Charger?" asked Tony, and then catching the glare. "Right, classic car and winter equals not a good combination."

"I'll do it," said McGee.

They all turned to him. "It's not out of your way?" asked Gibbs.

"Not really," answered McGee. "Well, not really far out of my way. I don't mind. I know Ziva and Tony live the other way."

"Well, I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. I'll be ready when you get there," said Gibbs.

"You don't want me dropping by earlier?"

"I asked you for a ride," answered Gibbs, with a small smile. "Not the other way around. If you had asked me for a ride, then you'd be on my schedule. But since I'm asking you for the favour, then I guess I have to live on yours."

That was the most words he had ever said to any of them by way of an explanation, and Tim accepted that. "All right, see you tomorrow around eight, Boss."

* * * *

Which was how he found himself about to pull into Gibbs driveway slightly before eight in the morning. Strangely, it was quiet... and even more strange was the grey mini van in the drive. For a second McGee was a bit disappointed. _If he'd found another ride, the least he could have done was called me_, but a second later, the instinct and observational skills that had awarded him his job in the first place knew that Gibbs would have called and this was not planned.

Just before he stopped, he heard it.

The distinct pop of gunshots, and flash from the front of the house. McGee slammed on the brakes and parked the car, pulling his gun as he did. At the same moment of him getting out of the car, bullets slammed into his windsheild. He ducked as the stuffing in his seats rained down around him from the hits in his headrest.

He brought out his cellphone and called NCIS. "C'mon," he pleaded as he took a cautious look.

He could hear more shots.

_Jesus_... they sounded like shotguns.

All at once the shots ended after those. McGee felt his heart drop in despair. If the shots had stopped that meant only one thing, and he knew Gibbs didn't have a shotgun in his house. Finally someone answered, "DiNozzo."

"Tony!"

"McGee? What's wrong? You late to pick up the boss?"

"No! But I'm here and there are shots being fired in the house. It's like a warzone. And there is a mid-late model Dodge or Chrysler minivan, grey one, in the drive," said McGee. "They are even shooting at me.... I'm pinned down."

"Shit! Are you hurt?" he had to give Tony credit, when things needed it Tony dropped the silly act and was all business.

"No, I'm not... but the shots stopped in the house after what sounded like shotguns," said McGee. "I think the boss is down, but I can't confirm anything."

McGee managed to move to the opposite side of his car to use it as a shield, and then aimed his sidearm over the hood, pointing it at the van. "NCIS! Drop your weapons!" he shouted as convincingly as he could.

The only answer was more shots fired at his car, but at least he managed to confirm they were definitely coming from the van. He took aim and returned fire, aiming at the tires. "McGee!" shouted Tony though the phone. "What the hell is happening?"

After managing to shoot out a window of the van and the back tire he crouched down as more shots peppered his car. "I managed to take out a window and a tire. Hopefully that slows them down. I can't risk more fire because I might hit someone by accident," he answered.

"Listen, there is local cops on the way, someone in the neighourhood called 911. Ziva made contact so they know you're there. Hold down the fort, partner, help is on the way," said Tony. "I am going to hang up the office phone so I can switch over to the cell if you need to... Ziva and I are also on our way."

"Get here quickly, Tony," said McGee.

He poked his head around the back of his car, trying to get a better view around to the house but there was no movement. He looked through his windows through the car when he saw, from the back and down the driveway, three people half carrying, half dragging Gibbs. The side door to the van opened. McGee peppered the front fender of the van, hearing the distinct twang of one of his bullets striking something in the wheel itself. The van began to leak fluids. One of the three crouched as the other two dragged Gibbs into the van, and began to fire at his car. McGee took shelter behind his car again, moving to the back to return fire.

Three shots rang out and the one firing at him dropped. The van peeled out and McGee took aim as he followed on foot for awhile, memorizing the license plate as he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: World on Fire**

It didn't take long for McGee to remember something else important after the van drove off. He ran back to the house, right after grabbing his gear from the trunk of his car, while on his cell, "Tony!"

"McGee? Update?" asked Tony.

"They took Gibbs. I managed to severely damage the van, but they still got away. I'm processing his house right now," he heard a moan from the upstairs and he stopped. "Tony, we have wounded here and, oh my God... Mr. Gibbs! Jack... Jack are you okay?"

The phone cut off and Tony closed it as he looked over to the driver of the car, "Ziva, get us there. They took Gibbs and his Dad was wounded during the home invasion."

She compressed her lips into a fine line, but hit the gas to speed up.

* * * *

McGee ran up the stairs two at a time to drop to his knees. "Jack?" he asked.

Jackson Gibbs rolled over and pushed himself up to a sitting position, "Agent McGee, isn't it?"

With a relieved sigh McGee nodded, "Are you hurt?"

"Only my damn pride," grunted the older man. "Leroy?"

McGee looked down and shook his head, "I don't know... they took him but I managed to shoot out one of their tires, a window and likely crippled the mechanicals in the steering or braking. But they got away."

Jackson punched the floor, "Damn. They hit me from behind. I came to when I heard the shots being fired. I know at least one of them had a shotgun. All Leroy had was that Sig sidearm. He's good but he didn't even stand a chance."

McGee looked him over, "I'm calling an ambulance. You should be checked out by a doctor."

"I don't need no damn doctor, Agent McGee."

"Please, just get yourself checked out. I swear I'll come get you later and you can stay with me until we process... " he'd almost called Gibbs house 'the scene' but edited it at the last second... "the house so we can find who did this and get your son back."

He helped the older man to his feet and guided him down the stairs and then out to his car. By then the local police and ambulances were arriving. He showed the police his ID, "Special Agent Tim McGee, NCIS. The owner of the house is an NCIS agent, the rest of my team will be arriving shortly. However, that older man is a witness and requires being checked out medically. He sustained a blow to the head."

For a moment they looked about to argue, "We heard from witnesses down the block that shots were exchanged."

"Yeah, that would have been me trying to prevent a kidnapping," shot back McGee. "Thanks for your quick response, but this is an NCIS crime scene. Your assistance is appreciated, so long as you know this is being led by us as it falls under our jurisdiction." He softened for a second. "But, anything you have to aid us in getting back our Agent would be appreciated."

At that moment, the unmarked NCIS car drove up and Ziva and Tony got out. They flashed their badges and ducked under the crime scene tape. Ziva saw Jackson being guided to an ambulance and said to McGee, "They attacked Gibbs while his father was here?!"

McGee nodded, while the senior most LEO stood by. After introductions were given, he filled them all in, "Now, shall we process the scene and do what we can to get our boss back?"

The local cop started at this, "Your boss?"

"Yeah, the leader of our team," answered Tony. "Senior Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, this is his home."

"My car is also a crime scene," admitted Tim, looking at the beater he drove for winter to prevent having to drive his Porche.

Tim turned and then went back into the house, kneeling as he took in the mess of the living room and destroyed Christmas tree. Tony and Ziva also walked in, saw the mess and stopped dead in their tracks. "Come on, the sooner we get done the sooner we can find the boss," said Tony quietly.

With that they spread out. Tim took the living room and systematically went through it. From what he could figure out, Gibbs was just coming from the kitchen and through the dining room to likely check to see if McGee had arrived... or grabbing a coffee, judging by the shattered mug of coffee on the floor. McGee looked at the front door, tracing the scene.

* * * *

Shortly before McGee's arrival  
Gibbs' house  
7:45am (ish)

Gibbs had finished dressing and getting ready for work, and had already taken his gun from the electronic safe. He was, whenever McGee arrived at around eight, ready and taking the rare opportunity to enjoy one more cup of coffee sitting in his chair, watching news, until McGee arrived.

He could hear movement upstairs which told him his father was up and around. His Dad had yet to go back to Stillwater, but, Gibbs didn't mind the company and his father didn't seem to be in a rush to go back.

He blew on the hot coffee to cool it off as he walked through his dining room when the door burst open. With reflexes born of years in the Marines, he dropped his coffee and drew his gun and ducked behind the wall in his living room as they opened fire. One went up the stairs. At that point Gibbs took the risk to duck out and started firing to draw their attention away from his unarmed and elderly father.

It worked, to a point. One man shouted up the stairs, "Down here! Down here!" and he heard running down the stairs before the opened fire again.

"NCIS! Federal Agent!" shouted Gibbs. "Drop your weapons!"

He heard a laugh before they dropped them and pulled out other weapons. "Yeah, we know."

_Shit_, he swore mentally. Shotguns.

He returned fire, and as the back and forth fire he counted the minutes. He had only so much ammunition at home. The rest was at NCIS. If he survived this, he promised himself that would no longer be the case. Not that it mattered. It wasn't as if he could stop firing, run to his safe, grab it, and start firing without giving up ground.

Then he heard the most welcome sound from outside, "NCIS! Drop your weapons!"

McGee.

And then he heard shots outside the house as another firefight erupted outside. By now he was sure his neighbours figured something was up and likely called 911. At least, he hoped so. He and McGee would not be able to hold off against odds stacked so much against them. "Fuck this," said one, and he heard a gun hit the floor.

Right before the tell tale sound of a double-click load of a shotgun. And the firing of said shotgun that ripped through the wall a bit too close to his head for his comfort. He ducked out, fired quickly, hearing a grunt as he dropped one, before he heard other double-click loads of combat shotguns. They took aim and Gibbs rolled to the other side of the doorway where he was at least protected by brick. A few seconds later, he looked up to another tactically dressed intruder as the butt of a shotgun compacted with his skull.

It wasn't enought to completely knock him cold, but it was enough to make his head swim as his gun dropped from nerveless fingers. Another plunged a single use needle into his neck. He felt his limbs grow heavy as the drug flooded his system. Two of them lifted him under his arms and half carried, half dragged him out his back door and down his driveway to the waiting van. He saw the impact off the van, and, while his drugged fogged mind didn't make sense of the small explosion of red-pink fluid from the front, he felt a strange satisfaction at McGee's aim.

When they loaded him in the van and it started moving, he felt what was left of consciousness slip away into blackness.

* * * *

At the crime scene that was Gibbs' house, their investigation had filled in those details. It only left one question: _Why?_

Tony bagged the needle and turned to them. "It's fairly obvious they came with the intention of taking him alive, but were well prepared to kill him if he didn't go quietly."

Ziva nodded, "That suggests a certain degree of vengence."

"How do you figure?" asked McGee.

"Well, they wanted him alive to likely torment," answered Ziva. "Ransom would have suggested a take alive at all costs method, not a take alive if you can, kill if you can't."

McGee saw her logic. "Okay, let's process the other rooms, the outside back and front. Maybe search beyond that. They were obviously watching him for awhile."

Tony looked at him in surprise, "McGee? Not that I'm upset, but I never heard you take charge before."

"Gibbs rule... damn... can't remember what number. Your lead, your case," said McGee. "I was here first, so it's my lead."

"Case?" Tony lifted his eyebrows.

"Yeah, retired marine turned NCIS agent is kidnapped," McGee hated to reach the conclusion. "We handled a few cases similar, so it's now a case. We have to get him back."

Tony nodded in agreement, "Not disagreeing, Tim. But... to call it that kinda bites."

"I know," agreed McGee.

* * * *

Abby was waiting for them in the bullpen when they arrived. She ran to them and hugged them, sniffling as she did so, "Have you heard anything yet?"

They shook their heads as a group. "Abby, the evidence from the scene is in your lab," said McGee. "We need anything you can find to get him back. Focus... what you find is what saves him in the end."

She looked at him in surprise and he said, "We are getting him back, Abs."

Abby looked around at Tony and Ziva in surprise, and Tony said him, "He's taking the lead on this, Abby, you'd better listen to him. His lead, his case."

She leaned over McGee's desk and grasped his hand and whispered, "I have faith in you, Tim... you will find him."

With that she raced back to her lab. McGee concentrated on trying to find a pattern in the attack. "McGee, I'm going on a limb here and taking a look into Gibbs' file to see if I can find anything that will lead us to someone who would want to do this," said Ziva as she pulled it up on her screen.

McGee nodded, "Good idea Ziva."

Tony stopped spinning in his chair and called a number. Both Ziva and McGee looked at him, and McGee asked, "Tony?"

"Mike Franks," answered Tony. "If anyone knows..."

McGee nodded and then got up, "I'm heading to the hospital to pick up Mr. Gibbs. I'll take him to my house."

"That may not be a good idea," said Ziva. "He's a witness, his life could be in danger."

Tim nodded, "Okay, I'll bring him back here for now then."

* * * *

After McGee had left, Director Leon Vance chose that moment to come down the stairs. When he reached the first landing that allowed him an unobstructed view of the bullpen he saw both Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David working furiously at the case they were now on. Vance knew what case it was. The LEO's at the scene had contacted him with the information. As he walked down the steps and into the bullpen, he asked, "Where is Special Agent McGee?"

"Gone to pick up the elder Mr. Gibbs up from the hospital," answered Tony. "He is then bringing him back here. Sir, he's the only witness other than McGee himself."

Vance nodded, "Yeah, I know. What have we got so far?"

Tony got up and brought it up on the plasma, "Well, sir, at approximately 7:45 four armed intruders in full riot gear forced their entry into Agent Gibbs home. From what we can tell, there was a fire fight. At some point, they upgraded to higher powered weapons that, once Abby finishes her analysis, we'll be able to tell what exactly. After another exchange, which, Gibbs held up quite well without being hit, they again upgraded to the very effective short ranged combat shotgun. At that point, Gibbs executed a combat roll to the opposite side, to give himself at least a brick wall instead of drywall as cover," Tony took a breath. "It's at this point, that the fire fight ends. From what we could find of footprints all over the main floor, one of the intruders found a path around an behind Agent Gibbs, and likely struck him with the gun because there is no evidence of scatter shot from that side of the wall, or a fire fight in the dining room. All shots fired were fired into the living room, from Agent Gibbs. However, the blood we found suggests a struggle. We found a single use needle on site which suggests that after being subdued, they sedated Agent Gibbs, another method of pacifying to ease their kidnapping of Agent Gibbs. Three of the four intruders exited with Agent Gibbs out the back door and to the waiting van. Agent Gibbs managed to drop one in his living room, and Agent McGee dropped the second in the driveway when they made their escape. Both are expected to live and are under guard. We have a BOLO on the extremely damaged and crippled grey mid to late model Dodge or Chrysler mini-van, as well as plenty of physical evidence. But that is where we stand for now."

Vance nodded, "Nice job, Agent DiNozzo."

"Sir, Special Agent McGee is leading this case," DiNozzo was many things, but he was not going to take the spotlight from McGee. "Agent David and I are support. McGee was there first, he's got the best lead on this."

Vance blinked in surprise. "Agent McGee is? Impressive," admitted Vance. "I'll be expecting regular updates. If you need anything in resources, just let me know. I'm not about to lose another man."

"Understood sir," said Tony as Vance left the bullpen.

Tony took a breath and let his back relax, and then he turned to ZIva, "I sure hope the kid pulls the rabbit from his hat, because it would suck to lose the Boss with Vance's eyes on him."

* * * *

McGee drove back to NCIS with Jackson Gibbs. It was silent in the silver Porche. Finally Jackson broke that silence by saying, "I know you'll do everything to get him back."

"I hope I don't fail him... or you..." admitted McGee. "What do you remember of the attack?"

"Not much," admitted Jackson. "I remember the door being forced open and then some guy in black with a hand gun came up the stairs and pointed it at me. That's when I heard shots being fired downstairs. Someone yelled, "Down here! Down here!" and the guy pistol whipped me before running downstairs. I was trying to get up when I heard the fire fight. Leroy... he put up a fight but eventually when I heard it stop I knew he'd lost. When I heard the first shotgun I knew it was a matter of time. All he had was that Sig against multiple shotguns. Not fantastic odds. Did you find anything that suggested... that he... was he hit?"

"No," answered McGee truthfully. "All evidence is pointing to the fact that it wasn't a home invasion but a kidnapping. They wanted him alive, and they got him."

Jackson fell back into silence thinking on that, "Tim... can I tell you something off the record?"

"Yeah," said Tim. "I suppose."

"It has to stay off the record. I mean it. You cannot tell anyone at NCIS, or anyone else, but I think it could mean something to the case," Jackson took a breath. "If anyone asks, call it a hunch."

Tim pulled over and looked at Jackson, "Why?"

"Because if you do, then you'll be arresting my Leroy for murder, however justified he was, after finding him," answered Jackson.

"Are you telling me Gibbs killed someone... not as part of a fire fight or at war, but murdered...?" Tim's mind churned as his stomach did little nervous flips.

"If you don't want to hear anymore, I won't blame you," said Jackson. "And if you do tell anyone I'll deny saying anything."

"Okay, I swear. It won't leave the car," said Tim.

"Well, you know about Shannon and Kelly?"

McGee nodded, "Yeah, Mrs. Gibbs saw a drug deal go bad, and a sniper killed the agent while he was driving Shannon and Kelly into protective custody. The crash killed them."

"Well, after Leroy came back from Storm, he had a chat with that Franks fellow. Somehow, he got the file on the case and went after the bastard that killed his family. He caught up to him in Mexico," Jackson took a breath. "Let's just say that it was poetic justice with how it was done."

"He sniped him," concluded McGee. "Gibbs took revenge on the man who killed his family, in the manner that they had been taken away. He was suspected of it, but no one was able to prove it. I don't think anyone wanted to, to tell the truth. And now you're telling me that the rumour is true. What would that have to do with the case?"

"I'm sure I heard the one who hit me speaking Spanish, at least, he was swearing in it."

_Shit_. From bad to worse. "Okay, I have no way to explain that lead other than the truth... but, I will try to explain it off as a hunch because you heard Spanish. I think I am going to have a talk with Mike Franks too."

As he pulled back into traffic, McGee said, "Just so you know, I have no intention of losing your son. Whether to these kidnappers... or to prison."

"Thank you, Tim," Jackson touched his arm. "That means alot to me. I lost too many members of my family to lose one more."

McGee sighed and thought, _What another fine mess this is_...


	3. Chapter 3

**Another Fine Mess 3**

Gibbs opened his eyes and pushed himself up off the floor. He looked around in confusion. At first, he couldn't understand why he would be in a rat hole, but then it came back to him. All at once, fear seized his chest. His father had also been in the house... but surely, he had also heard McGee outside, also opening fire on the intruders? Perhaps his father was all right?

Unfortunately, he had no way of knowing if any of them were all right. Gibbs clutched his head as a migraine struck him. It was like someone took an icepick to his temples and gouged his eyes out with spoons. He felt the pain through his sinuses and back teeth. With a moan, he waited it out. When it had subsided he concluded, _Okay, no sudden moves or spikes in blood pressure... not until whatever they pumped into your neck wears off completely_.

He tried to remember the details of those few scant moments before he was taken.

Unfortunately, they appeared to be professional and so there wasn't much to go on. With a sigh he leaned his head back against the wall as he sat on the floor. He could hear water dripping and, while it wasn't bone biting cold it was by no means warm either. What he had been wearing in his house was not exactly the best to keep warm either. It was little more than what he'd wear inside the NCIS office, plus his coat. Thankfully, it was his longer one, which meant it would serve better as a blanket until he figured out how to get the hell out of here. His shorter one, emblazoned with "NCIS" on the back was a great deal warmer, but only bomber style.

He didn't have his gloves or scarf. Nothing in the way of food, not even gum, in his pockets. Hopefully the aim of his captors were kidnapping... not assassination... and, given the lengths to hide their identities he hoped that meant they intended on his release afterwards. Hopefully, they would also feed him instead of forgetting about him.

Not that he was truly counting on such a best case scenario, but he could at least hope that was the case.

So he waited.

What seemed like hours passed, and Gibbs, although he knew that if they were trying to starve him that moving around burned precious calories... conversely not moving would make hypothermia kick in that much faster. A definite damned if he did, damned if he didn't situation.

Finally the door opened and three men strode in, guns trained on him. Gibbs held up his hands. There was nothing to be gained until he at least learned what they wanted. Resistance and mind games that he was trained to use would come later once the information was learned. "Okay, I get it... see... not fighting here," he said as calmly as he could, showing neither fear or aggression.

They moved out of the way, presumably to wait for someone to walk in or for him to leave. In this case, it was the former as a man walked in. Like the others, he was masked. He walked right up to Gibbs and took a handful of hair and forced Gibbs to his knees. Holding out his other hand, one of the others handed him a combat knife which he used to hold to Gibbs' neck.

There were two ways out of this, and neither of them were pretty. Since he had no way of knowing if they had also taken his father, Gibbs played it calm and diplomatically. Purposely avoiding the captor's faces so that they wouldn't think that he was trying to identify them (which, would have made things much worse) so as to not provoke them, he kept his hands up. But, he also refused to show fear. He just kept things as neutral as possible. "Okay, you obviously want me... or someone like me... for something. I should also tell you that no federal agency will deal with kidnappers so long as there is a hostage. There is likely people looking for me."

"That, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs," he could hear the sneer in the other man's voice... was that a Spanish accent?... clearly. "Is likely, but going to be very difficult. Your friends at NCIS won't be able to help you."

Gibbs' started at the use of his full name and rank within NCIS. This was no random home invasion or ransom kidnapping. No... they had wanted him. Which meant he had been watched for quite some time if they knew what his daily habits were. And they likely knew that his father was there as well. He felt his stomach flip at the thought. But, no, something told him they didn't have his father. McGee had interrupted right at that time, and that meant their schedule had been moved up and they likely only had time for him and him alone.

"So, you know who I am and what I do," he said. "So what?"

"I have little interest in what you do, Senor Gibbs," that only confirmed the Spanish connection. "Only in what you know about certain cases. Your clearance."

Gibbs blinked in surprise and then started to laugh. Of all the possibilities that hadn't been one. He fully expected the back handed slap to his face, but it still took him by surprise and sent sprawling on the floor from the sheer force of it. "I think you'll be sorely disappointed," Gibbs wiped the blood from his face. "Because I can't even help you outside of NCIS. I have no way of looking up anything from here... or anywhere. Not that I'm even sure how. And if you did your homework on me like I think you did, you know what I'm like with computers. So, tell me what you're really after here?"

"As if you would give it to me," stated his captor.

"True," admitted Gibbs, as he leaned against the other wall that he found himself conveniently against. "But seeing as I'm here anyway... what the hell."

"Oh, you wouldn't give it to me but I can take it from you," the man came to him and hauled Gibbs to his feet to only slam him into said wall hard enough to make Gibbs see spots and knock the air from his lungs. Damn, the bastard was strong. "But, information is more important. And whatever you can tell me would be more helpful than you know."

"Go fuck yourself," growled Gibbs, not even bothering to keep the nice act up anymore. "I'm sore, cold and tired, and you're the bastard that's being unreasonable."

The punch to his stomach was enough to knock the rest of the air from his lungs, and the captor turned interrogator let him drop to gag on the floor on all fours. "What was that?" demanded the man.

Gibbs struggled for breath, but managed to hold up one hand to tell him exactly what he thought of his captor in a universal language everyone understood -- his middle finger. He heard a shout of rage, "Asshole!"

His arm was forced behind his back, and then he was forced to the floor. He felt the cold metal of handcuffs being snapped closed on that wrist before the other was forced, but Gibbs fought back. He kicked one in the shin, and with a howl of pain, he fell back. The other two were on Gibbs, but he was no easy target to take down until one of them struck him midback with a rifle butt. Falling heavily, and awkwardly, on his shoulder, Gibbs struggled to get his breath back as his free arm was forced behind his back and cuffed there.

It wasn't over there. They moved back and then began to kick him. As each kick rained on him he tried to protect himself from the worst by curling up but they only kicked at each available spot. Finally, the leader said, "Enough, I want him in good enough condition to think long and hard about the price of not cooperating... and still be able to cooperate."

Gibbs muttered something and the captor said, "What was that?"

"Semper Fi."

The captor didn't even let the other men at him, the final blow to his ribs was with enough fury that Gibbs knew that it was the leader. Finally, they left the room, leaving Gibbs curled up in a ball on the floor, still handcuffed. His clothes were now ripped and he was bloodied.

A smile still curled his lips finally.

The little exchange had wielded more information than any of them knew, now Gibbs knew why he was being held. He thought of his team. He knew of only one way to prevent this bastard from getting the information. Unfortunately, he didn't know of any other way. He would hold on as long as possible but allowed himself to swear to himself that if he couldn't escape, if he wasn't rescued and he knew he was about to break... to end it.

* * * *

Abby came running up the stairs and into the bullpen, tears streaking her face. She ran into McGee's arms and started to cry. He held her for a minute, then pushed her back, "What is it?"

"There was a viral video uploaded to that site we check out for leads," she sniffled, typing it into his computer before going back downstairs. "I can't watch it again." She saw Jackson. "Come on, you don't want to see it."

For a second Jackson Gibbs looked like he was going to argue, but he saw the other three faces of his son's team. For a moment he thought about it. "Go back downstairs Abby, I have to."

She then held his hand and said, "Then I will stay too. But it isn't pretty."

McGee hit the play button. The picture was grainy and obviously through nightvision, judging by the shades of green. There was no audio. It was obviously an interrogation of Gibbs, judging by the movements of the camera. "Tracing," said McGee, sickened to his stomach by what he was seeing.

Everyone was similarly affected, although Ziva had gone quiet, hugging herself. When it finished, Tony asked quietly, "Tell me you know where this bastard is."

"The site, yes, but it's like Youtube... the site is hosted elsewhere. I can't find where it was uploaded from," he said. "But I am peeling back the layers. Unfortunately, the only way to get that information is to get inside the company itself."

"Then we'll do it," said Ziva.

"That's the problem, it's not even in the Western hemisphere," said McGee. "And then who ever uploaded this could be here, and likely is. They couldn't have gotten far in that van and if they attempted any other way, someone would have caught them because of the BOLO. Dammit!"

He slammed his hand down on his desk in frustration. Abby, hugged Jackson, who was sitting in his son's chair, visibly upset by the video, and she went to McGee and whispered, "I'll get on it right away. We'll get this bastard. I'll use your programs."

She put a hand on his shoulder, "I believe in you."

He touched her hand. "Thanks, Abs," he looked at the other members of the team, "Okay, we never sat around and waited on a BOLO. What do we know? How far can a van go on whatever I blew out of it... that's their max range or they would have been spotted. They have to be somewhere in the area. Find the van, we find Gibbs!"

Tony and Ziva seemed to snap out of the horror of the video and sat down at the computers. Ziva pulled up a map of the neighbourhood around Gibbs' house. Jackson asked, "What did you shoot out from under the van?"

McGee paused to think, "It was near the driver's side wheel well in the front. Could have been brakes."

"What colour?" asked Jackson, recovering as his mind now had something to latch on.

"Red purple," McGee looked at Abby. "Abby, we took samples, run them... then we'd know."

"Aah," Jackson waved that off. "All well and good, but I have some knowledge of cars and mechanics... that sounds like brake fluid all right. One hit like that means no brakes. There was no way you could have hit the transmission from there. But no brakes... now... that was a good and vital hit. It's still driveable, however. What did it smell like?"

McGee was about to say he couldn't remember, but that wasn't true. He'd helped process the scene. "It smelled like burned rubber," answered Tony. "Bad, bad smell."

Jackson leaned back in the chair behind Gibbs' desk. "In the right place for brake fluid, but maybe you might have hit the transmission supply lines. And if you did, you killed the van... that drastically shortens the driveability of the van. Likely you hit both, because you have to go through the same areas in a front wheel drive."

The three members of the team, and Abby, stared at Jackson Gibbs in surprise. "That was useful," said Tony.

Ziva looked up, "Think about it, that's a type of oil, isn't it? Would it not rest and stain the snow on the ground... we can still follow the very trail that they drove."

McGee stood up, "Get your gear, that's what I'd call a lead."

The three ran for the elevator and Abby hugged Jackson as a hesitant smile spread across his face, "This detective stuff is rather interesting," he admitted. "A bit of a rush..." then the smile fell off his face. "Abby... tell me straight, what are Leroy's odds?"

She smiled sadly, but laid a hand on his, "If anyone can survive this, he can. If anyone can find him, they can. They'll bring him back to us."

* * * *

When they arrived at the house, they began to walk down the street, with Tony following in the unmarked car. McGee took pictures while Ziva tracked the oily trail. "It puddles when they stopped, but they were in hurry," she pointed which way the trail led, and Tony drove out into traffic, the marked DC Metro car flashing its lights so that traffic wouldn't hit the Agents on foot. Ziva continued to follow the trail and then it led into an alley way behind some houses. "The trail is starting to get sporadic... running out of fluid, yes?"

"Then that means we're getting close," Tony relayed. "The elder Mr. Gibbs says that if the trail is getting spotty then they were getting low on tranny fluid... once its dry, it's a matter of minutes before the tranny dries out and dies, literally welding all the internal componants solid with friction... just like a car engine with no oil."

McGee said, "Remind me never, _ever_, let my car run out of any fluids... that was good to know."

"Duly noted," came Ziva's reply, and then she cried out, "A ha!"

He followed her finger and felt his heart skip a beat. They found the van. McGee and Ziva began to cautiously approach it, McGee taking pictures as fast as his finger would let him. The Metro officer cordoned off the area with evidence tape. Tony approached the van, but let Ziva check the van for traps or bombs. "One would hope they wouldn't trap it," said the local police officer. "With all the houses this close by."

McGee nodded, and asked Ziva, "We clear?"

"It would appear," she said. "I do not see any evidence of explosives or other devices."

Tony nodded and they stood back while he slowly opened the door. When nothing happened, they moved in. Ziva cautioned, "Until we know for certain, this is the only access."

"I already called the bomb sniffer," confirmed Tony. "Wanna wait?"

A sense of urgency warred with the need to make sure everything was done right and no information was lost. Common sense won out, and McGee decided, "We wait. If this goes up on us, we lose everything. We can't afford to lose everything."

Thankfully, given the profile of the case, the bomb sniffer dog was there within a matter of a half hour. It took only a few more minutes for the officer to give his thumbs up... and the all clear. The flat bed tow truck moved the van after they resealed the doors with evidence stickers. McGee and Ziva took more evidence by way of samples at the scene and Tony took more pictures. Once they were done, an hour had passed. They nodded to the local officer, and McGee said, "Don't release the scene yet... I'm sure we're done here, but you never know."

"By the book, eh?" the officer nodded and tied the tape back up again.

The three of them drove back to the NCIS garage and Tony said, "That should keep Abby busy for the next little bit."

"Go back to our new scene," said McGee.

"What?" asked Tony. "You're not serious." He caught the look on McGee's face. "You're serious."

He stopped the car, turned it around, and then drove back, "What is it?"

"That's our new central point. We need to find signs of what they left in... or of where they are if on foot," said McGee. "Which I doubt..."

He didn't want to say it but now it threw a whole new problem into things. While they could not go out of state because of the BOLO, or use major routes, but if they had jumped to a different, unknown, vehicle, the BOLO wasn't going to be of much use. He figured they would stay local because of how many places there were to hide here anyway, but that wasn't necessarily an option.

McGee did the math. It was now 15:47, which meant Gibbs had been kidnapped a little less than eight hours ago. Given that they showed a torture scene approximately an hour to two hours ago, that meant a travel time of approximately six to seven hours, perhaps less. Still plenty of time to get out of state, if they wanted to. Every minute meant Gibbs could be farther and farther away. They pulled up to a confused looking local officer, but McGee ignored him as he walked around looking for tire tracks, anything. Ziva did the same thing and he was glad for her. Her tracking skills were almost legendary. She pointed. "There, that's a track we missed. It looks reasonably fresh."

McGee turned the local officer, "Any chance of there being traffic camers or the such near here?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact... at both ends of where they could have accessed the alley," the officer's eyes widened. "I'll make the call to the traffic watch, Agent McGee."

"Thanks," said McGee, feeling a lead forming, and he was glad to see Tony and Ziva seeing where his thoughts were going. "So, Ziva... where'd it head?"

She pointed the other way, and McGee bent to take a casting of the track. Tony took a more topdown picture of the track. Ziva bent in the snow, following the foot prints. "Someone was definitely dragged the short distance from the grey van to this new vehicle. I also see four distinct foot prints. Tony, can you take these pictures?"

"Yeah," he answered as he took pictures where she pointed.

McGee said the the officer, "Just in case I think of something else..."

"I get it, by the book... the site won't be released for at least forty-eight hours."

* * * *

They returned to the office and uploaded the pictures to what they already had, as well as sent what samples they had bagged and tagged down to Abby. Jackson came in from the lounge and said, "So?"

"We have a new lead," answered McGee. "Now come the hard part... one half wait for Abby, one half make sense of what we already have."

Jackson sat in his son's chair. Director Vance walked down to the landing on the stairs from the upper level, "I reviewed that video."

They looked up at Vance. "Get the bastards, Agents, bring Agent Gibbs home. I know I offered you all the back up you need, but I have word from a friend in the FBI that all we need is to say the word if you need any tactical back up."

McGee nodded, knowing just who had caught wind of Gibbs' kidnapping. Fornell.

Tony said, "I'm going to check on Abby."

He left after that. McGee continued to pore over what little they had while Ziva continued to review hits on their BOLO. He opened his email, seeing the same answered emails. Plus a few new ones. There were three from Tobias Fornell alone, plus possible sightings of Gibbs by various law enforcement agencies. He changed the BOLO to update everyone that the grey van had been found and was now in evidence lock up. No update on any new vehicle, but one was suspected. And then he widened the net to surrounding states and border crossing. With six to seven hours, they could have potentially reached the Canadian border, but that was really pushing it. He rubbed his face and he heard, "What is our honest chances of finding him?"

He looked up at Jackson, "Honestly, every minute is critical, but if we rush and miss a detail that would also mean not finding him in time. We have to be fast, efficient and thorough. That is our advantage. These guys are counting on us to rush and miss things... things they didn't intend to leave behind but assumed we'd miss if we were in a hurry... things we cannot, under any circumstances miss. Things that will be their undoing because they were the ones in a hurry, for all their professionalism. If we can catch that mistake, then we have found them already."

McGee was still working on a trace of the upload from the viral video site. He knew if he kept an eye on it and caught them shortly after it was uploaded he could potentially track them that much sooner. He had already hacked the site... it wasn't as professional as first appeared. Talented, but amateurish. His hooks were already laid, all he needed was the tugs on it.

It was then he saw the email from an interstate toll taker. They had also attached the video of the suspicious activity. McGee watched the video as the newer, still neutral coloured, panel van stopped, pulled over and then did a neat three point turn before driving away in the other direction. He then read in the email that the the toll booth personnel had been conducting "spot checks" on all vehicles that could possibly match the BOLO, but at least making everyone open at least their trunk or other cargo area if they could not see into it. Such activity was easily seen at that part of the interstate. Tim zoomed in on the van and wrote down the license plate, as well as any other interesting marks on the van. It was their first lead on the new vehicle. He looked at the time of the video, and saw it was from a little over four hours ago at 11:34am. In the right time frame for where the toll booth was located from the abandoned grey minivan. He snapped his fingers, "Uh, Ziva, we got a possible lead on the new van."

She moved swiftly over to him and watched the video, "It is possible that is the van we are looking for."

He handed her the license plate number. "Run it. I'm going to down to Abby's lab..."

Tony came up at that point, "Stay there, McGee, Abby says the fluid in the driveway was definitely a mix of brake and tranny fluid... and the tire tracks match that of a late model GMC Savana van."

McGee and Ziva looked at each other, "We got a lead... Tony check this out..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Tony reached out for the slip of paper. All of a sudden, Tim changed his mind. "Take Ziva with you," waiting for Tony to answer him.

Tony and Ziva exchanged a look, and Tim took a breath, "No one goes alone anymore. With one agent kidnapped, we cannot risk having no backup if something happens. Don't worry, I'm following my own rule."

It was at that moment Leon Vance walked around the corner and nodded, "We need a team of four. I'm your fourth. But you three are still in charge of this -- I've been out of the game too long while you have been in the middle for longer. Special Agent McGee, from what I can see, appears to have the lead on this."

"He does sir," answered Tony. "While he is still a junior agent, he was the first on the scene. His lead, his case."

Vance nodded his agreement. "Then, as Special Agent McGee said -- no one goes in alone. Period. But, you know this so I won't repeat it. I have Agent McGee's six. Get out there Agents DiNozzo and David," Vance watched McGee finally hand over the slip of paper, "Now, what are we doing, McGee?"

Tony and Ziva were already to the elevator and walking onto it when McGee answered, "We are still looking into Special Agent Gibbs background. I get the feeling what we are looking for is there."

"How?"

"Can't say," McGee smiled. "Gut feeling I guess."

Vance didn't push but knew that there was more to it. It was confirmed half a second later when McGee picked up his phone and dialed a long distance number. "Hola, Senorita, habla ingles?"

There was a pause, then McGee smiled, "Senorita, I am looking for Mike Franks... oh, he's there right now? I do need to talk to him.... Hello, Franks, my name is Special Agent McGee of NCIS... yeah, that's me. Listen, we have a situation up here. Yes, as a matter it does have something to do with him..."

Vance sighed inwardly. This case was suddenly more complicated than he cared for. But, he hadn't exactly expected otherwise with Agent Gibbs.

* * * *

McGee knew Vance would have given anything to be a bug on the wall, in fact, he could tell by the appearance of him that he was trying to not pry. McGee had already resolved himself to at least telling him about this particular conversation with Mike Franks, but, nothing of what Jackson had told him. He agreed with the elder Mr. Gibbs on that point -- the less who knew about the truth the better for Gibbs.

"Hola, Senorita, habla ingles?" _Hello, miss, do you speak English?_

"Yes, I do, why?" came a polite, if suspicious voice.

"Senorita, I am looking for Mike Franks..."

"You are?" she seemed suddenly all too accomodating. "He's here right now, if you want him."

"Oh, he's there right now? I do need to talk to him."

She must have handed the phone over, because the next thing McGee heard was Frank's gravelly voice, slightly slurred, but still clear. He also sounded rather annoyed. He was about to be a whole lot more annoyed, realized McGee, but he had to find out. "Hello, Franks, my name is Special Agent McGee of NCIS..."

"You one of Gibbs' probies... yeah... that computer one..."

"Yeah, that's me. Listen, we have a situation up here."

"Let me guess... Leroy Jethro Gibbs problem?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it does have something to do with him," McGee took a breath. "He was kidnapped out of his house. They also injured his father, who was visiting for Christmas, at the same time. Pro job. They came for him. In and out. Very little in evidence left behind, but what we have we're combing over."

He heard a long suffering sigh on the other end, "You didn't just tell me that."

"Unfortunately, yes, I did," McGee didn't have patience for Frank's mystery and BS, but he also knew that if he didn't at least marginally try to be patient, he'd be shut out. "Jackson said one was most definitely Spanish."

"So?"

_Read between the lines, man!_ McGee wanted to shout. "Both Jackson and I get the feeling that it has something to do with whatever reason Gibbs became NCIS. I get the feeling you may be able to shed light on it, since you were his Lead Agent then..."

To his credit, McGee saw why Frank's had been NCIS. "Oh, _shit_," was the only answer. "I'm on my way."

* * * *

The door opened again. Gibbs picked himself up, leaning on the wall, half for support, half to defend his back. He wasn't going to make this easy for them. Warily he eyed them as they came in. The same one as before came in. "So, change your mind yet?" he asked.

"Nope," answered Gibbs. "You?"

"I didn't think you were going to make this easy," he cracked his knuckles. "You leave me no choice but to take the information from you, then."

The two burly kidnappers that were aiding the interrogator came forward. Gibbs brought up his fists, keeping an eye on all three. But, given the swollen nature of one eye he missed the interrogator as he brought something up and pulled the trigger. Gibbs fell to the floor, screaming silently as the current from the taser ripped through his body, his body twitching uncontrollably as all his nerve endings fired and exploded. He tried to scream, but the current had caused his vocal cords to convulse too much to make any sound.

As quickly as it struck, it disappeared and Gibbs lay on the floor, involuntary tears staining his cheeks. The interrogator kneeled, "Are you going to talk?"

"Go..." Gibbs gasped, before grinding out the rest. "Go... fuck yourself."

His answer was another round with the taser. Only this time, he managed to scream. The interrogator didn't let up. Gibbs felt the first hint of lightheadedness, and he welcomed the respite of unconsciousness as the darkness claimed him.

* * * *

Royce Vasquez stood up in disgust. The old marine had passed out from the interrogation. They had gained nothing from him and the client was getting impatient. He turned to the others, "Who else has access to this 'MTAC'?"

One shrugged, but the other, a bit quicker on the uptake, "We don't know, but we will look into it, sir."

"Do it," ordered Vasquez.

When they left, Vasquez left the room, locking it. He was no fool. Once a marine, always a marine. Old or not -- Gibbs would, if he woke before Vasquez returned, find a way to stumble out to escape even if he didn't get very far before being recaptured. He filled a bucket of water and carried it back, checking to make sure Gibbs was still a heap in the middle of the floor before opening the door to throw the water on him. Gibbs woke with a start and managed to pull himself to the wall.

He was far from broken, this much Vasquez could see. Wounded, yes, but like a fox or wolf would be in similar circumstances. More like a wolf than a fox. Both animals were well known for cunning, but Vasquez could see more hunter in Gibbs than a fox was known for. Now, wolf, that suited the man far more. Both the cunning and hunter instinct. And Vasquez could see how much like a cornered wolf Gibbs was. It was in the man's eyes. He was using the corners to guard his back, not hide like others. Vasquez grinned, and he could see the other man's eyes thin dangerously, blue eyes glittering defiantly.

He was going to be fun to break, this silver wolf.

* * * *

Day One  
18:34

Ziva and Tony drove up to the house with the address on the slip of paper that Tim had given them. For a moment, they sat there. There was, at the moment, nothing to be said or done. Finally, perhaps because he couldn't bear the silence anymore, Tony said, "It's been nearly eleven hours since Gibbs was taken."

Ziva didn't say anything. "We cannot lose hope. We must find him."

"Yeah, I know," Tony was thinking back to his days in Baltimore.

He knew the first twenty four hours were critical. And those hours were slipped away fast, it was almost to that halfway point. He closed his eyes for a second, "Ziva... what if we don't find him?"

She stilled for a long moment, "We cannot think of that as an option. If it happens, we cross that bridge. Until then, it is... not an option."

He sighed, and then said, "Let's get this over with. The sooner we find a lead, the sooner we get the boss back."

They got out of the car, and walked up to the door to knock on it. Tony could hardly see in for the grime and dust on the windows. Ziva looked around, "It does not look like anyone has lived here in a long time."

Tony nodded, "Yeah, not liking this either."

She pulled out her phone, and called McGee, "The house looks abandoned, we should get a warrant..."

She looked up at Tony, "It is listed as vacant, meaning there is no one supposed to be there?"

At that moment, the LEO for the area pulled up and also got out, hand on her gun. She nodded in acknowledge as her partner brought out the piece of paper denoting a warrant. Tony smiled, "Inter-agency co-operation at its finest."

The senior most officer smiled, "Indeed. Let's get that lead and see if we can find your agent, Agent DiNozzo."

The four of them spread out as Tony and the local cop opened the door. "NCIS!" yelled Tony. "Anyone here?"

There was no answer, not that they were expecting any. Tony and the local officer moved into the house, guns leading as Ziva and the other followed, also conducting a thorough room to room search. Once it was given the all clear, they only relaxed slightly as they met back in the entrance area. "There is no one here," re-affirmed Ziva.

"Okay," Tony nodded. "Get the kit, comb over everything. Something made this place a lead, let's find it."

* * * *

Day One  
19:00

Abby came bounding upstairs, "We got a hit on that website."

McGee looked up, "What have we got?"

"Their ISP," she said in triumph. "They are not in DC per se, it was definitely a bit of a drive. They are still in state. I can't get more exact that that because once you get past a certain point, the IP becomes dynamic instead of static."

McGee felt his heart drop, "How wide an area is the IP?"

"An entire small town and the surrounding area," she hugged him. "I'm sorry, Tim."

He smiled, "That's better than where we were a few hours ago when we didn't know if he'd been taken as far as Canada."

She sat in Gibbs chair. It was at that point, he noticed someone else was missing. "Where's Jack?"

"Oh, he went with Ducky," she answered. "It was late, and Ducky was headed home anyway. As Gibbs house is still a crime scene, he couldn't go back there. Ducky offered him a spare room."

McGee breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a bit guilty about forgetting about him in the first place. He picked up the phone and called Tony on his cell. When the other agent picked up, McGee said, "There was another video released of Gibbs. They're getting a bit more imaginative... but, on the other hand, Abby says she managed to nail down the originating ISP, but the IP is dynamic, not static, which means it could be anywhere in that district. I've already sent agents to start looking without looking like they're looking that way we don't tip them off."

"Whoa, whoa," Tony sounded a bit overwhelmed, which, he often was very quickly if Tim started on something to do with computer specifics. "Back up a sec, okay, got a lead, sent someone to look into it, but don't get the part about the ISP and IP's... wanna try that again... make like you're talking to Gibbs."

"Okay, an ISP is basically the company you buy the internet service from, that's literally what it stands for "Internet Service Provider", you with me so far?" asked Tim.

"Yeah."

"An IP is a... it's like an address. Every computer has one, as does every server. Now, you would think that if an ISP has provided the internet to a user, that the user has a specific IP, right? Wrong. Okay, in most cases, yes, that is. The modem retains the IP, it doesn't change. That's what we call a 'static IP'. Those make our lives easier because we get the IP, we contact the ISP and we have an address of the computer, or network of such, in question. Problem, some more remote areas do not have the capability for a bunch of static IP's, so they use a system of dynamic IP's instead. Now, the range of where they are, in other words the first points of the IP is static because that is where the POP server is, but anything past that POP server..."

"And a POP server is?"

"It's a server that connects an area to the main backbone of the internet, or through another server, and so and so, on... anyway, all POP servers are static, so if you get a POP server for an area you have the general area of where the computer you are looking for is," answered Tim. "The last digits or so of a dynamic IP changes whenever the computer is disconnected and reconnected from the internet. Now, with this day and age of "always on" high speed internet modems, disconnect/reconnect doesn't happen near as often as it did in the days of dial-up, but, for whatever reason sometimes it does. Which means we can't search someone's house on the basis of an originating IP because that area is served by dynamic IP's... there is an entire neighbourhood, perhaps even district, to search depending on how rural. Suburbs just a neighbourhood, but if it's a small town, well... that would mean the whole town, including businesses."

"Christ, that's quite the wrinkle," answered Tony. "What's the good news?"

"Well, we have the specific POP server IP, which means we know..."

"... We have a search area that is now specific, so long as he isn't moved," answered Tony. "But at this point we don't know just how big or extensive. McGee, don't get down on yourself. That's still way better than where we were hours ago. Instead of a state, we have one specific area. Tell Abs to keep at it... we'll find him."

Tony hung up the phone and Tim set down the phone. Abby had a small smile on her face, "You had to explain it."

"Yeah," Tim laughed a bit.

* * * *

Abandoned House  
20:00  
Day One

Tony and Ziva continued to pick through every single thing in the house, as did the other officers from the local police force. Finally, Tony stood up, a child's toy in his hand. "Hey, Ziva, what do you make of this?"

She walked over, taking a picture of the item before taking it from him to look it over, and then she bagged it. "I do not know, but Abby will figure it out."

Ziva was about to move away when she cocked her head to one side and walked over to the wall. Taking a picture first, then she took out her knife and began to chip away at the wall. It revealed another wall, of which she then handed off the camera to Tony to let him take the pictures as she took down the false wall. "Why would they hide a wall?" asked one of the local officers.

Tony shook his head, "You wouldn't believe some of the fucked up shit we see on this job."

Ziva wasn't done. She lightly dusted the wall. At this point they could see the texturing of the wall. There was still nothing explaining why they would hide a wall. She followed the line of the real wall and then looked at Tony. "It is hiding something, but just not here."

"Sledgehammer?" he asked, and when she nodded one of the local officers ran outside, then came back in with a few crowbars.

"No sledgehammers, but we do have these."

Tony nodded and Ziva accepted one. The local officer and Ziva went to work while Tony documented every move. While Ziva led that excavation, Tony heard a shout from another area, "Special Agent DiNozzo, we found something else over here."

Tony nodded to Ziva and then went to the other room, where they had moved a piece of furniture to reveal a bloodstain on the carpet. He took a picture of that as well, and then he nodded to them. One took out a knife and cut into the carpet. When they cut that up it revealed nothing but the plywood beneath, also stained. "Whatever it was, it was here long enough to stain through to the wood," he said. "Not liking this one bit. We get any information on the owners of this place yet?"

One of the officers shook her head. Tony had a nasty feeling about it. "Okay, this is now a possible homicide investigation."

Ziva yelled from the other room, "Tony, we have something!"

Tony walked back into the other room to see the wall knocked down, revealing a closet. "How the hell did they hide that?" he wondered, documenting it.

Ziva pulled the handle and opened the trapdoor in the closet, "That's why."

Shining their flashlights down the hole didn't help. They saw a ladder, but that was it. For a moment both of them considered their options, but Ziva finally said, "I will go down there first. You back me up."

"Ma'am, if makes any difference to you, I'd like to be the one to go down there with you," said the local officer.

She looked at Tony who made a gesture with his hand, "Let him go with you, Ziva, we'll be up here."

She climbed down the ladder, gun at the ready, then used her flashlight and gun to search around, "Clear."

The local officer climbed down while Tony and the local officer's partner stayed at the top of the ladder. "Tony, I believe we can handle this. You and Constable Serrano continue to look over the house."

Tony nodded, "You got it, Ziva."

He looked at Serrano and said, "C'mon, let's figure out that bloodpatch."

* * * *

Ziva and the other officer, whom she had learned the name was Sargeant Vince Wright, searched the underneath of the house. The passage, from what her compass told her, ran underneath the driveway. Vince asked quietly, without causing an echo but just loud enough for her to hear, "When Special Agent DiNozzo said you dealt with some fucked up things, I wasn't expecting this. What do you make of this?"

"It is puzzling why someone would go to such lengths. I believe it leads to the next house. In fact, going by distance and direction, we are at the basement wall of the neighbour, and there is a door here, carefully engineered to be invisible from the other side. We shall need a warrant, let's head back," she said, although her Mossad instincts were telling her kick that door open to investigate why the two houses were connected.

They made their way back, but pulled to the side and out of sight in the darkness. They switched off their flashlights and squinted in preparation for the bright light coming so their eyes would adjust faster. The door was opening.

* * * *

Tony and Serrano heard gunshots from the area of the tunnel, "DiNozzo... in the next house...across the drive..." came through Serrano's shoulder radio from Wright.

Tony and Serrano ran across the driveway and that neighbours lawn. Sure enough, very muffled, they could hear gunfire. Tony kicked open the door and they ran down to the basement. "NCIS, drop your weapons!" yelled Tony as he took aim at the four gunmen in the basement.

Two turned, overturned a table and took cover while the other two continued to fire into the tunnel hidden by the bookcase. One bullet grazed his arm, but he managed to hit one in the arm. As that one recoiled, clutching his arm, someone from the tunnel managed to shoot another in the chest, sending him to the floor. He heard a shout from the tunnel, and then he could tell there was now only one person returning fire from the tunnel. "Vince! Vince, do you read me?" called Serrano into her shoulder radio frantically. "Shit!"

She changed the channels as she reloaded her weapon and called into it, "This is Constable Mirena Serrano, offcers under fire, possibly one down. Requesting assistance."

"Roger that, Constable Serrano. Assistance on its way."

It was the most beautiful sound to Tony's ears. She changed back to the channel she shared with her partner, "Come on Vince, talk to me. Back up is on its way."

"I'm all right, through and through to the shoulder. Agent David is holding them off, I'll live."

With that she took aim, "DC Police, put your weapons on the ground!"

Tony didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed that they actually listened to her instead of him and Ziva. Either way, the guns were on the ground. "Hands above your head!" they cautiously descended the stairs as Ziva also cautiously came out of the tunnel.

Ziva kicked away their guns and Serrano patted down the two unwounded ones while Tony checked over the ones that were wounded. "Special Agent DiNozzo, this is your lead, we're back up, you make the arrest," said Vince as he hobbled out, holding his shoulder.

Tony and Ziva read them their rights while cuffing the uninjured ones. He turned to Ziva and said, "Now we have another lead... and another crime scene. Let's get on it."

* * * *

23:30  
NCIS  
Day One

The elevator dinged and Tony and Ziva walked into the bullpen from it. Tim stood up and said, "We interrogated those two you brought in earlier, you get anything from the other two in the hospital?"

Tony nodded, "They're after MTAC, for some reason. Gibbs was definitely their focus, but they had back up plans. These yoho's were for that back up plan."

Tim nodded and then he looked at Tony, "You realize I was on that list too?"

With a look, Ziva said, "We would not have allowed that to happen. Gibbs was... unfortunately... the easiest to grab. He never locks his door, he lives alone and in an unsecured building. His routines are like clockwork. It is a small... wonder... that he was at the top of their list."

He didn't want to say anything, but Tim suspected that despite that very logical reasoning there was an added bonus for the mysterious Spanish member of that group. He couldn't say anything. At this point it was mere speculation while a far more logical and reasonable explanation had been found. However, with that development, it meant more people were in danger.

"By the way... when did Ducky get back from that conference?" asked Ziva. "I remember at the start of this that the entire reason Gibbs could not ask Ducky for a ride in was that he was away at a conference?"

"When the kidnapping happened, Ducky came back in. The conference was local, so he was easy to get a hold of," answered Tim. "We figure out where the real owners of the two houses are?"

"Haven't found them yet," answered Tony darkly. "Asked the neighbours, and they said that the houses have been, thankfully, vacant until these two groups of people moved in a few months back. Gave the impression of being a bunch of college roomies, complete with parties on the weekend. They assumed they were paying rent. One house, thankfully, had been vacant for years. The second had a family of four. Have not been able to get a hold of them, but it's not unusual for them to take off for part of the winter. Grandparents in Florida or some such thing."

Tim closed his eyes and cursed. "I hope that's where they are."

"Yeah, me too," answered Tony, sounding subdued. "You learn anything from the other two?"

Tim nodded, "After MTAC, but no idea why. Was supposed to be a simple job. No idea about Gibbs, just know his name was on a list but it wasn't their team on the list. But, now we have a number. Eight... these four and the four who have Gibbs. Evidently, the nice and quiet in and out that turned out to not be an in and out caused whomever was paying them to cut these loose. We do know there was only supposed to be five on each team, but some guy named Vasquez decided to change from their team to the one for Gibbs at the last second. Wouldn't take no for an answer. Ended up they needed the extra hands on deck," Tim smirked. "Gibbs was a bit more than just five could handle. Gibbs took out one in the house, and then I took out one or two at the scene. There is at least three of that team left, one possibly wounded, and the other two are in the morgue."

"Swell," groaned Tony.


	5. Intermission

**Intermission**

0:24  
NCIS - Autopsy  
Day One

Ducky was just sliding the second body into the cooler when McGee came in. He wasn't quiet like Gibbs, but the anxious need for information was still there. Perhaps there was more to it as well. The elder Mr. Gibbs was currently staying at Dr. Mallard's. Given the recent developments, that made his home a rather large target should the remaining three or four kidnappers choose to eliminate the witnesses.

However, as Ducky suspected, Jackson was likely not near the top of the list anymore. A man who had only heard swearing in Spanish did not make the same priority as two living witnesses that had not only seen the others without masks, but also knew the plan.

But it was always best to err on the side of caution. Ducky turned to regard McGee, "I trust you didn't come down for time nor cause of death?"

"No, I didn't," admitted McGee. "A bit of inspiration, maybe."

Ducky looked at him quizzically, then it connected, "Ah, perhaps hoping to channel a bit of Jethro's abilities? His natural instinct? My boy, if you didn't have it you wouldn't have gotten this far... Jethro merely has more experience."

McGee deflated a bit, "That's what I need right now; his experience. I feel like I'm missing something. Every answer we get leads to more and more questions that defy logic. How is Mr. Gibbs doing?"

"Oh, quite well given the circumstances," answered Ducky. "He sleeps very little and stares out his window as if his very gaze will bring back his son. I feel for him, I really do. I understand that you are getting closer to unravelling this."

"Will I unravel it soon enough?" McGee thought for a second.

* * * *

02:37  
NCIS - bullpen

It was quiet when the elevator dinged and the lone man walked off of it, carrying nothing but a carry on and a shopping bag from a local 24/7 grocery superstore. He looked at the agents, and the empty desk that once had been since but now belonged to his successor... and his friend. The agents were sleeping at their desks, exhausted from being on the go for so many hours. He shook his head. Every hour counted, hell, every minute but even he knew that if fatigue set in they would be useless when the time came.

He quietly continued walking past them and to the break room. He had stopped off at the 24/7 superstore because he also suspected they had gone too long without food or decent coffee, not just sleep.

Mike Franks knew from experience that efficient troops needed three things besides gear; decent food, sleep and something to keep up morale. He brought out the box containing the new coffee maker to temporarily replace the coin operated dispenser. He set it up and plugged it in. He then pulled out the electric water kettle. Some of them didn't like coffee... she preferred tea... and then stocked the cupboards with what else he had grabbed. Hot chocolate, tea, real coffee, sugar... He then opened the fridge and threw in the milk and cream, as well as the honey. When they were awake, he'd move it into that fridge he knew McGee had never moved from under his desk that he was positive was for this very reason.

He then walked out to the bullpen and watched them sleep for awhile before returning to the break room to settle himself in for a long night himself.

* * * *

Unknown time  
Unknown place

Vasquez opened the door again, this time not even bothering to ask any questions. Word had travelled. The other team was already captured or dead. The back up location compromised.

NCIS knew the motive, or believed they did.

He was pissed off and he wanted to use this agent as his outlet. Gibbs leaned up against the wall, knowing as much as he did by the very look in his eye. Vasquez wasn't even wearing his mask anymore. Both men know what that meant.

Gibbs swallowed. When he looked into the bastard's eyes, he could see the cold rage and hate. What was more disturbing was that he hadn't bothered to mask himself like the other times. That meant only one thing - Gibbs wasn't leaving this one alive. There was no point in hiding behind the mask if he had a chance to live. Alive meant able to identify his captor.

There was no warning when his captor brought up one hand and tasered Gibbs. His body hurtled back to the wall as his muscles contracted uncontrollably. Every nerve felt like it was on fire. He couldn't scream, could hardly breathe. Little black spots danced in his vision. He wasn't sure, perhaps he was hallucinating, but he also thought he could see the lightening arcs in his vision.

Just as suddenly as it started it stopped, and his captor lifted his head by yanking violently back on his head by his hair. "Now we're going to have some fun," grinned Vasquez, as he then slammed Gibbs head down to the ground.

Gibbs was helpless to prevent it, his nervous system was still making him twitch. Vasquez started to laugh. "Now, we can't have you get all sweaty and then be forced to shiver in those wet clothes, can we?"

Gibbs felt the knife slide along his back, each time he twitched, it cut into his skin. But Vasquez had already achieved his purpose - cutting off his shirt and jacket down the middle of his back. He was rolled over roughly to his back and his clothes were ripped off of him. He curled up instinctively, the cold temperatures of the room making his now completely naked body shiver. Vasquez moved away and as Gibbs managed to get himself against a wall Vasquez dumped an entire bucket of water over him. "You needed a bath, Agent Gibbs," laughed Vasquez, before grasping a handful of Gibbs' hair again.

With a scream Gibbs was pulled to his feet by his hair, he saw Vasquez draw his other arm back and he feebly covered his face in a block. That wasn't where Vasquez was aiming. The air exited his lungs as the Vasquez punched him squarely in the stomach. Vasquez let go of his hair, and Gibbs crouched on the floor, retching and dry heaves overtaking him as he just tried to draw air into his lungs. Vasquez kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling, the air forced out of his lungs again.

For a moment, all was quiet but for the gasps of air as Gibbs tried to gain his breath. Then Vasquez grabbed hold of his left wrist, "Why, Agent Gibbs... I never figured you for the jewelry type person. Why don't I relieve you of this useless trinket?"

The pure animal response from Gibbs surprised even Vasquez as Gibbs' brutally yanked his arm out from his grasp and was on Vasquez within seconds. Vasquez had caught the sheer rage in those blue eyes right before Gibbs' started his own round of violence. Vasquez held up his arms, like Gibbs had, in the effort to stave off the brutal flurry of punches and kicks. Finally, the other two captors came in, one tasering Gibbs and the other, in one fluid move, injected Gibbs in the side of the neck.

Gibbs fell lifelessly to the floor in a heap as the three of them surveyed the damage. Vasquez whistled, "Well, that was unexpected."

He walked over, kicked the unconscious Gibbs over to his back and grabbed his wrist, "So, this 'trinket' is valuable to you, eh? Well, you will no longer need it."

Vasquez removed the bracelet, looking at it as he did so. He had no idea what to make of it. At first, he had thought it to be a medical alert bracelet, but it was not. It was, however, clearly a masculine bracelet, the silver chain thick but yet attractive. The links were flat to prevent rubbing and catching on clothing. It was meant to put on and never take off. The three walked out, locking the little room behind them. Vasquez turned the bracelet over and over in his hand.

At first he had thought to steal it, a last slap to the face of the man within. But it was too unique, too identifying to the man within that the cops would be looking for it as a way to identify him. With a grim smile, Vasquez put it in a small ziplock and pulled the silver hair from under his ring and also put those in the ziplock. He then put the whole thing into a plain brown envelope.

He knew about morale very well.

* * * *

**DAY TWO**

* * * *

07:14  
NCIS Bullpen

A brown envelope sat on Gibbs desk, delivered by the mail. It had been checked over and was addressed to the NCIS - MCRT, and so, the internal mail deliverer not knowing any better had delivered to Gibbs.

Tony walked in, fresh cup of coffee in hand when he saw the envelope. He picked it up, and McGee, Franks and Ziva walked in, also holding their chosen hot drink for the morning. Tony held up the envelope, "This came in the morning mail."

McGee took it from him and said, "It was cleared by security."

He fingered the security tape, also noticing it had some weight to it. Abby walked in, Caf-Pow in hand, as did Ducky and Palmer. It was still very, very early for them all, but no one wanted to be left out of the loop. As McGee looked around, he noticed only one face was missing, but when he looked up to the catwalk, he saw Vance. He ripped off the security tape and opened it.

There was no describing the feelings that ripped through him when he saw the baggie... or what was it. He felt his heart drop, his stomach flip and almost faint at the same time. Even though the motion was quick, it felt like slow motion, and within view of everyone, he put on his latex gloves and overturned the envelope. The baggie dropped into his hand. Abby cried out, "Oh god, no."

It was Gibbs' bracelet... and, although he hadn't seen them before... tangled silver strands of hair.


	6. Chapter 5

**Another Fine Mess 5**

08:30  
NCIS Conference Room  
(Not Gibbs' version... the real one)

It was the only place all of them fit into that also had phones and computer ports. Vance didn't regret the move one bit. It was right next to MTAC, and therefore fewer steps to keep up on what the other agents were doing to find Gibbs on that one lonely lead in the more remote county that the IP had come from.

Director Leon Vance didn't like only one lead, but it was significantly better than none.

He also didn't like seeing photographs of what he was seeing. This was just too close to everyone for them to maintain a professional detachment, but, there was no one that could cover this. No one else that had earned the right to be the Major Case Response Team; none but those who were the Major Case Response Team.

Vance stared at the two items, actually, in retrospect three pieces of evidence that had been found in the brown envelope. One was Leroy Jethro Gibbs' silver bracelet, the other was tangled strands of silver grey hair. The third was the plastic ziplock bag that the other two had been in.

The kidnapping had reached the point where the kidnappers were now sending pieces of their missing agent.

The critical twenty four hours had officially passed just over half an hour ago.

Leon Vance knew well what that meant. He had worked plenty of missing people cases over the years and they seldom turned out well once the kidnapping aged twenty four hours. Soon the agents sent to to the county where the IP had been traced to would be calling in. He hoped that the feeling in the pit of his stomach was wrong and they had something good to report.

Preferably that meant they had found Special Agent Gibbs alive. Judging by this new evidence, the 'well' part of alive and well was now relative. He simply prayed that the damage already done would be easy to recover from. It was the best he could hope for when the evidence pointed to torture as part of the abduction.

Four agents sat in the room with him, all subdued but yet working, going over the evidence. Trying to put out of their minds that they were searching for someone that was damn near family to them, not another.

It was too damn close.

*** * * ***

The technicians in the MTAC accepted the call, and the Senior Special Agent in charge of the search team in that remote county was heard, if not seen, "Checking in, no sign of him found yet. No sign of the van either. Should we start actually asking around?"

"Hang on, Agent Fornier, I'll get the Director."

A moment later, Director Vance and Special Agent McGee walked in, and both put on headsets. "This is Director Vance, Agent Fornier, sitrep."

"There is no sign of the van or of any other suspicious activity. At least, not without actually asking around the town. It is pretty rural though. Small town serving as the commercial center, farms scattered around. However, given that the videos were likely sent via high speed connection it does narrow it down to closer to town because beyond that goes to dial up only," answered Fornier. "It's very quiet here."

"Any warehouses or businesses that might have gone out of business that they can hide a van?" asked McGee. "The team here discovered that their partner team was using two empty houses in a suburb as a base of operations. They were using the boarding house student type cover to explain why they had the houses. Complete with weekend house parties. Look into that as well."

"That's better than nothing," answered Fornier. "Am I correct in saying that means you have made an arrest?"

"Yeah, but no sign of Gibbs. Gibbs is not going to be anywhere but with that other team of kidnappers. McGee out," the connection closed and he sighed, putting a hand to the bridge of his nose. "Dammit."

Vance put a hand on McGee's shoulder, "Don't give up yet. No body means he's still alive. He's a tough son of a bitch. We'll get him back."

*** * * ***

Mike Franks paced until McGee returned and then stopped pacing when the younger agent entered. In many ways, Tim McGee reminded Franks of a younger Gibbs. Well, sort of. Maybe in the "My hand's been forced and now I have to do this" way that had happened after Franks had retired. McGee sat down heavily in his chair. "Well?" asked Franks.

"No sign of anything in the county in question," he answered.

The vague hope in the room shared by the other two agents fell flat. "We cannot lose hope," maintained Ziva. "We lose hope, we lose him."

"Twenty four hours are gone," mused Tony. "When I was a cop back in Baltimore, we learned early that the first twenty four hours are the critical point. After that the chances of finding the abducted party fades pretty fast."

"Oh come on, Probies of the Probie," said Franks. "Let's go over what we do know. One, he's not dead because otherwise what we would be finding is not an envelope clearly meant to get this reaction... we'd have a body bag. Two, just because they haven't found a sign of him yet means nothing. Three, we have two scumbags in holding to work over that may not even be aware that they have something that could help us. Four, we have a full team so we're not down any manpower. Let's take a breather here and chill for a second. Now, let's think about why he would want us to be thinking with less than clear heads."

"He wants to buy time," realized McGee. "We're too close to him right now, somehow. He sent us that package to demoralize us... slow us down. We're onto something and we don't even know what..."

"Exactly," Franks pointed at McGee. "I betcha one of those guys in holding has something, like I said. Want me to work him over a bit? Obviously, one of you is going to have to be in the room. I'm a retired field agent, and while Director Vance has me on as consulting status, let's be a bit by the book here so that Probie gets his justice when we get him back."

*** * * ***

Unknown Time  
Unknown Place

Vasquez stormed in the little cell shortly after Gibbs regained consciousness. Gibbs was staring down at the floor, clutching his bare left wrist in barely hidden despair. "Well, well, well," started Vasquez. "What have we here? We have everything that makes you, you, now don't we? If you want any sign of your former life back then you had better tell me all there is to know about MTAC."

Gibbs looked up, "MTAC. This is about MTAC?"

Vasquez was about to strike him but he heard the change in Gibbs' voice. The lack of feeling, or at least, it was supposed to sound that way. He paused, suspicious. It could be his silver wolf's cunning showing again, trying to lull him into believing he was broken. "Yes," he drawled that out. "MTAC. All about it. It's reason, strengths... weaknesses."

Vasquez got a reaction he didn't expect. Gibbs simply laughed, then went silent, staring despondantly at a point in the corner. If he was actually looking at anything at all. The expression was strangely distant. "You want me to visit this same hell you are experiencing on that old man we found in your house?"

For the first time Gibbs stared at Vasquez, only his eyes... just barely... gave any hint to the horror behind them at Vasquez's threat. It was empty, but only Vasquez knew that for sure. Gibbs had no way of confirming that the other agent had played a role in the kidnapping being cut short and nearly failing. It had taken quick thinking to get away with what they had. Two had died, one in the house, one in the driveway. The third had died on the way back to base, shrinking their number down to three. Now the other team was dead and captured by NCIS.

But Gibbs didn't know how tenuous Vasquez was hanging on to success in the mission for the one that had hired him. And he was going to use it to break Gibbs.

"Yes, he's a pleasant enough man. Not as strong as you," pointed out Vasquez, seeing the worry increase behind the blue eyes. "Oh, don't worry, we haven't done anything to him yet. He's comfortable, although we haven't gone out of our way to make it fancy. Now, you don't want your situation to be visited on him, now do you?"

"You're lying. My agent interrupted you before you could grab both of us," but even Gibbs didn't sound sure. In truth he wasn't. He couldn't remember the exact circumstances of his kidnapping well enough. "And I wouldn't betray my company for anyone... neither would he... nor would he want me to!"

Vasquez backhanded Gibbs, then turned gentle and helped Gibbs to a sitting position, "Now, look what you've made me do. I don't want to do this, but you must understand, the success of our mission is paramount. I had a brother... and I have a father... I would not want them to be in your position if the situation was reversed, but you must understand... after all, I am sure you do... it must be done."

"Go to hell."

"Suit yourself."

Vasquez didn't torment Gibbs. He simply got up and left the room, locking it behind him. Once out of sight of the door, he sucker punched one of his men, causing them to cry out in pain. Before the other man could react, he made a sharp gesture to the door where Gibbs sat behind. Vasquez waited a few more moments before opening the door and stepping back in, rubbing his hand as he did so, "Gibbs heads are equally hard, are they not?"

Gibbs had drawn himself up to lean on the wall, "You fucking bastard."

"MTAC. What is it... weaknesses. and strengths. Think about what and who you're actually protecting here, Agent Gibbs."

A light came to Gibbs' eyes, and that was the only warning before Gibbs jumped him, another flurry of hands and feets, punches and kicks, before Gibbs pushed his way past Vasquez to the common room behind him. He scanned around as Vasquez came up behind him. But the damage was already done.

Gibbs had seen the entire size of the room, the remaining two men, one of whom nursing a sore jaw from a sucker punch. As Vasquez grabbed him, Gibbs head whipped up and connected with his jaw. "You fucking lying bastard," screamed Gibbs. "He's not even here... you let me believe... and he's not even here!"

The other two were up in a heartbeat, one already had his hand on the taser, but he couldn't get a clear shot. Finally Vasquez managed to disentangle Gibbs and Gibbs felt the same muscle contractions as a taser, full strength, shot him full of electrical current. He screamed, as this time he could command his vocal cords to do so.

*** * * ***

10:00  
Rural County  
Near to the industrial park

Special Agent Fornier stopped dead, hand on his cellphone. "Did you hear that?" he asked the other agent with him.

"Yeah, but I couldn't tell from where it came from," answered Agent Keele. "Was that a man's scream?"

"It certainly sounded like one," answered Fornier. "Call it in, I think we just narrowed down our search. If not, we just found another case."

Within a half hour, the search party formed of the numerous agents as they combed over the industrial park. Thankfully, given the rural setting and small town, it wasn't a very big area. Big enough, but nothing like what it would have been like to search DC. They had searched for little over another hour with nothing to show for their efforts.

Another unmarked car pulled up beside them, and three of the four MTAC team got out of the car. Special Agent DiNozzo was well known to the other agents, and Fornier figured they wouldn't have taken long to show up once a solid lead had been found. "Sitrep," said DiNozzo.

"We heard a man's scream, but we couldn't pinpoint where. Too much echo, muffling," answered Fornier. "We have two bases, one for each side of the park. We are working towards the middle."

"Yeah, we know," answered an older man, one that Fornier didn't recognize. "McGee went to that one."

"Ziva, Franks, we'll form one team," said DiNozzo, then he turned to Fornier. "We'll work to to search the areas you haven't got to yet. All hands on deck."

"Yeah, no kidding," answered Fornier.

*** * * ***

McGee searched with two junior agents, searching a zone no one had got to yet off to the west of the park. There were some smaller warehouses here. He knelt down when something caught his eye. _Was that fresh tire tracks?_ he wondered and when he looked, he felt his heart skip. Fresh tire tracks... not from any of their cars either. The tread was too deep. More like something on a... he followed the tracks and saw a familar looking silver, new, Chevy van.

The very van from the security video at the toll booth. He wanted to dance in joy, but knew better than to get his hopes up. It this van was abandoned it wouldn't be the first time they had switched off vehicles. But, as he and the other two agents silently closed in he could not see any other tracks anywhere.

This van had not been abandoned. He tried to use his cell phone. No signal.

It would figure. He motioned for a radio and tried it. Static. With a sigh and a shrug he pulled the other two behind cover. "We need to get the others here ASAP," he said. "But, we have no way to communicate. We need someone to run to get them."

"I'll do it," whispered the younger of the three, a young looking woman. "I took silver in cross country running and I do free running. I'd be the fastest."

"I'm not comfortable leaving you alone," said McGee.

"I'll be fine, otherwise, no one will know to come here as backup, and we're going to need it," she answered, before saluting him as she ran, keeping to cover until she was out of sight.

He sent a small prayer that she succeeded as he took stock of his gun and ammunition in his clip and spare clip. He looked over at the other agent. "I'm going to need you to back me up," said McGee. "If I'm right, if we swarm with the calvary, so to speak, they'll kill Agent Gibbs before we can do anything. We're going to have to stealth in and get him safe first."

"Yes sir," squeaked the younger agent.

"Have you been with NCIS long?"

"Two months, sir... I just graduated."

_Was I ever that young?_ wondered McGee. "Okay, just watch my six, okay? Don't be a hero... stay under cover and behind it."

The other agent nodded and they quickly checked the van. Empty. McGee left it alone as he didn't want to trip any alarms on it and tip off the abductors. He then led the other agent to a door, bypassed that to find a window... or a fire escape. They climbed it to the next level and then, using a bit of illegal software on his PDA, McGee hacked the security system to allow them into the second floor via a window. As they crawled in, McGee closed the window, opened that door a crack and checked to make sure it was clear. They crept along the catwalk, looking down at the abductors. McGee counted two, and a body that wasn't moving. He could tell from this distance that it was a dead body of one of the kidnappers. Breathing a sigh of relief, McGee motioned for the other agent to get behind a wall for cover.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do himself. He couldn't see Gibbs or the third kidnapper.

But it didn't take long to hear him... he could hear muffled screams from another room. Gibbs.

He looked at the other agent, nodded, and crept down the stairs grabbed the guns from behind the men as they sat, playing cards. McGee felt his heart beating in his chest so loudly that he was sure they had to hear it. He had never been so scared in his life, but he knew if he didn't even the odds a bit Gibbs was as good as dead. It was at that point, that McGee found a box...and when he opened that box... filled syringes. He read the labels. Tranquillizers.

The idea formed in his head and he smiled as took two from the box and then closed it. In one fluid motion, he struck... tranquillizing both before they knew what hit them. They struggled for a bit more but succumbed to the sedative within seconds. He motioned the other agent, and then whispered, "Okay, open the door and keep an eye out for our back up."

He could still hear the signs of torture and he followed them to a door. There was a small window and when McGee looked in he saw the same room from the two viral videos... and Gibbs. McGee moved back into the opposite wall in horror. He had to get Gibbs out of there but if he went about it the wrong way the remaining kidnapper would kill Gibbs.

McGee didn't know what pushed him to do it, but he knocked on the door, loudly, with authority. He also kept himself out of sight. The door opened and the big Spanish man came out into the hallway, "Where the hell are you?"

He turned and saw McGee, his gun up and pointing at him. "NCIS, freeze," said McGee in the strongest voice he could muster.

For a long moment, Vasquez could only stare at the younger man in shock. And then he went into action, attacking the younger man and knocking the gun from his hand as they went hand to hand. McGee held up as well as he could, but Vasquez was larger and stronger. Finally, Vasquez pushed him to the wall, and McGee could see spots as the air whooshed out of his lungs. A gunshot went off.

Vasquez slid down the opposite wall from the door, a shocked look on his face. The wan light showed the blood stain on the wall. McGee picked himself up to lean against the doorframe. Gibbs leaned on the back wall of the cell, gun held limply in his hands. McGee ran forward as Gibbs pitched forward, catching him in the nick of time. "Boss," McGee cried out.

Gibbs could only shiver. "McGee."

"I got you boss, you're safe," said McGee.

"... want... go home," mumbled Gibbs.

McGee laughed, "Yeah, I bet. After you see a doctor..."

*** * * ***

11:00  
Outside the rural warehouse

Ziva and Tony drove up to the warehouse where they could clearly see McGee checking over someone laying in a blanket. They stopped the car as the other cars also came to a stop behind them. There were enough flashing lights and sirens that McGee had to smile as he looked down at Gibbs, who could only lay there, shivering in both shock and cold. "Hey boss, the calvary arrived," said McGee.

"Yeah..." said Gibbs.

Ziva and Tony ran over to Gibbs, who looked up at them, "What took you so long?"

"Boss?" asked Tony, confused.

"McGee..." Gibbs murmured, so low that only the three could hear. "Can I catch the ride now? Only... I think home would be better."

"You got it, boss," McGee answered and he and Tony helped Gibbs over to the car where McGee got Gibbs settled in the back seat before running to the driver's side. "Tony... we got bodies in there. Can you call it in and secure the scene?"

"Yeah, of course," answered Tony.

"Great... we did it, guys... we got him back," McGee finally smiled before getting into the driver's seat.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six  
**

12:00  
Day Two  
Small Town Hospital/Clinic

McGee paced outside the emergency room in the waiting room. While he had to admit the health center was significantly nicer than the big city hospital, he still didn't like being here. The waiting room seating was wide, generous, didn't have arms and seemed to have the double purpose of serving as sleeping couches for really long waits while not feeling well. There was a generous children's play area the farthest from the doors to the ER but closest to the main entrance. There were also two windows that were for blood tests and other tests. A sign of a truly small hospital, mused McGee. Is the fact that the waiting room is generous enough to not only serve the ER, but also the clinic and the blood testing and other testing places without seeming crowded. It was also far cleaner, and while not new, certainly better respected. It was almost, but not quite, comfortable as if a very busy set of volunteers went out of their way to make it as comfortable and lounge like as possible instead of "waiting room".

But, despite the quilt on the wall, or the nicer paintings and mural... and plants... it was still a hospital... and an ER waiting room. Nothing would ever change that. Finally a nurse came out and said, "Special Agent Timothy McGee?"

'"Yes?" he said walking over.

"We would like to keep him overnight," she said. "Thankfully, although the trauma he has suffered is very serious, we don't have to transfer him to a bigger hospital, unless that is your wish. He's not in any shape to make that decision himself."

"Why?" asked McGee, suddenly worried.

"He's sleeping, one," she answered, smiling. "Two, until he stabilizes that would only harm him more. And we have more room for a private room here... it will be more peaceful and restful."

McGee couldn't argue with that logic, but there was something else, "Once he stablizes, I don't think he would want to. His father is visiting from Stillwater and this is out of the way. Not to mention he has a lot of friends that would rather him closer to keep an eye on him."

She nodded, and he asked, "Can I see him?"

"He's sleeping," she answered. "And he needs the rest. If you promise not to disturb him, I can let you sit with him."

"I won't wake him," promised McGee, and as they walked, he whispered a question. "How bad is it?"

"Well, we ran the whole works of tests on him and he still has a potent sedative in his system. We found two needle tracks on the side of his neck, so he had been drugged at least twice and neither time was gentle," she whispered back in answer. "We're guessing they didn't exactly try to be exact about it either. He is suffering from small electrical burns and other puncture wounds near those burns. He also has been beaten within an inch of his life, there is a long, deep, stratch on his back running by his spine... and... since we can see he was tortured, the doctor and the nursing staff are concerned about the emotional trauma. It would be good for him not to be alone."

They stopped outside a door, and she motioned, whispering, "He's in here."

*** * * ***

14:00  
Small Hospital  
Gibbs' room

Ziva and Tony arrived a short time later, and were also quiet as they came in to check on Gibbs. With a small smile, Ziva signaled that she would sit with Gibbs for awhile so that McGee and and Tony could grab a coffee and catch up on the morning's situation. McGee got up quietly and Ziva replaced him in the chair beside Gibbs' bed.

As she sat there, she looked him over. He was covered generously by blankets and clean sheets, with a clean cotton scrubs style top. Likely he was wearing scrubs as sleep pants as well instead of the gown. It was curious, as most if not all hospitals supplied gowns, not scrubs. She laid a hand on Gibbs' relaxed one. She took a look at his face. He wasn't sleeping peacefully. His eyelids flickered and he would mumble every so often in the grip of his nightmare. She smoothed his hair and murmured quietly, humming, trying to soothe him. It appeared to work, but only slightly.

Even she could see the bruises in his face... feel where the hair had been torn out of his scalp. She took something from her pocket, something that Vance had released as evidence once Abby had taken everything she possibly could from it. Very gently, Ziva slid the silver bracelet back around his left wrist, securing it back where it belonged. All at once, the unease around him lifted, and with a deep sigh, the ghosts of his nightmare faded and he fell into a deep, peaceful, sleep.

*** * * ***

McGee and Tony when to get coffee from the cafeteria, and then walked back to borrow a lounge that they could close the door to. Staring out into the little garden, the two men stood in silence. "Sit rep," said Tony quietly.

"He's in bad shape," said McGee. "We found him in barely the nick of time..."

He filled Tony in on what had gone down in the warehouse and then finished, "The doctor here feels that he has likely undergone severe psychological and emotional trauma. Instead of waking in a big city hospital, he felt this was was more quiet and peaceful to wake in. His physical injuries are not so bad as to require a major trauma center. As it is the doctor's call, there isn't much I can say."

"But?"

"No buts, if he's okay to stay here then I agree on the peaceful aspect being far better than a big city hospital's hustle," answered McGee. "Although this more like a rest home than a hospital, if you ask me. And he's smart enough to pick up on it, once he wakes up. So, on your end of things?"

"Agent Fornier is taking the body of Royce Vasquez and the other dead kidnapper back to DC, and the two living kidnappers are being transferred back to DC as well," answered Tony. "Ducky and Abby were a bit upset that it took so long for us to tell them that we found Gibbs alive, Tim. You didn't call them."

"Didn't have time, and I didn't want to worry them until I knew what was up with Gibbs. Not that I can use a cell phone in here without being caught anyway."

"Well, they are on their way and should be here soon. Ducky, of course, is going to be the 'second opinion' on Gibbs' condition," Tony smirked. "But, I think he might agree. Jackson is also on his way. He's catching a ride with Ducky. Director Vance said he would catch up as soon as things were wrapped up in DC."

"Franks?"

"Already on his way back to Mexico," Tony shrugged. "I figured he'd want to stick around, but I guess not."

*** * * ***

Gibbs cracked open an eyelid, then another to look around the room. Even though, logically, he knew he couldn't have been tortured and kidnapped all that long, it had felt like forever and, after losing his bracelet he had given up. He looked at his wrist, and he could see it and feel its reassuring weight.

Someone had gone through the trouble of finding it for him. Of returning it. He closed his eyes, clamping them shut to prevent the tears that threatened to fall. "Gibbs?" came a questioning voice, and after regaining a bit of control he looked over into the face of his favourite goth. "You're awake!"

"Abs?" he croaked, scarcely believing it.

She gently hugged him, the contact reassuring him that this wasn't a dream. He hugged her back, holding on tight as if to banish the past twenty four hours of hell. "How long?" he asked.

She sat up and answered, "You were missing for approximately twenty seven hours or so."

_Only twenty seven?_ It had felt more like weeks or days. He supposed that had been part of the torture. He felt dizzy and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking he heard her calling for the doctor. When he opened his eyes next it was dark and Ducky was now sitting in that chair, reading a book. "Duck," murmured Gibbs. "What time is it?"

Ducky jumped a bit, and he saw him look over to another chair, "He's awake again..." before turning his attention back to Gibbs. "... Jethro, so good to see you awake!" exclaimed Ducky. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit... and I probably look it," answered Gibbs bluntly. "What time is it?"

He looked over to where he could hear motion and saw a very relieved Jackson Gibbs move over to the other side of his bed. "It's just after ten in the evening, son. You've slept most of the day away."

With a yawn, Gibbs admitted, "I feel like I could sleep more."

Ducky patted his arm reassuringly, "Then do so, your body has been through hell. Sleep, Jethro, we'll be here."

Gibbs didn't need the encouragement and he closed his eyes again, his breathing evened out and he began to snore softly. Ducky listened for a few moments more, and then, satisfied that everything was as it should be, leaned back in his chair. Jackson continued to hold his son's lax hand. "I am just so happy to see him right now," mused Jackson. "He's going to be all right, then?"

Ducky frowned a bit, but answered, "He's tough, but he will need time for this. And people around him."

"What aren't you telling me?" asked Jackson.

Ducky had read the reports from McGee and the young agent that had found Gibbs, as well as the medical reports from when Gibbs had been brought to the emergency room. He had the unique, and alarming, full picture of Gibbs' condition. And, while he couldn't be sure of his emotional state with him sleeping ninety percent of the time, he was sure there was significant trauma there as well. He just wasn't sure what to tell Jackson without alarming the elder Gibbs too much. He took a breath, and motioned for the older man to join him in the hall as they walked to the same lounge that Tim and Tony had used. "Well?" asked Jackson.

"He was tortured... more than what those videos showed," answered Ducky. "I will be honest and say that I don't know what kind of effect that will have on him emotionally, but I suspect that he will deal with it the same way he does everything - bury it and deny there is a problem. I would suggest counselling but I don't think he'd use it. I would also suggest he not head straight back to DC, perhaps go somewhere a bit more peaceful where he can retreat without it being withdrawn. Someplace he feels safe and comfortable... and where it is quiet. That is why they haven't moved him to DC yet. This is a small town, a small health center. It is quiet and peaceful, unlike a hospital in DC."

"It reminds me of a rest home," pointed out Jackson, and he caught Ducky's side glance. "That's not what he needs."

"It's better than a hospital," pointed out Ducky. "And he also needs people he trusts and loves near him. He was humiliated as part of his torture."

"How?" demanded Jackson. "What did they do to my boy?"

"I think they drugged him to keep him subdued, or resorted to a device call a taser, as well as near constant beatings. They also, violently as far as we can tell, removed his clothing and any other items of personal note. Effectively, they stripped him of dignity," he saw the horror creeping into Jackson's face. "He was not assaulted... but, I suspect the being forced to curl up and try to keep warm while stripped bare, and then tortured more, amounts to the same. McGee said he also saw evidence of intense psychological torture. As I said, they used drugs as well as other methods."

Jackson sat down in one of the chairs hard, "Oh my God... Leroy..." he looked up, "He'll be okay, though, right?"

"With much support from friends and family, and plenty of rest... and as I said, if he would only do it, perhaps even counselling, yes," Ducky sighed. "I am going to head back to sit with him. Should he wake, I do not want him to wake alone for the first few days."

Jackson nodded wordlessly, silently thanking the other man for allowing him time to collect his thoughts and regain some control over his own emotions. He felt sick, and then he felt rage. Had his son not shot the kidnapper responsible dead, Jackson would have been tempted to do so himself. Or at least beat sense into him with his cane for what he did to Jackson's son. He took deep, calming, breaths before standing and walking out of the loung and back to his son's room to also sit with him.

*** * * ***

The next morning was a clear dawn, and the snow was crisp, clean and fresh. Leroy Jethro Gibbs woke slowly, as the sun warmed the foot of his bed and slowly moved with the hours to shine on his hips, legs and feet. With a yawn, he rolled over, wincing as he rolled onto bruises to regard the scene in his room. In two armchairs were Ducky and his father, sleeping. On the short couch he saw Abby curled up under a knitted blanket, holding Bert close to her. Beside him, holding his hand in sleep was Ziva while her other hand rested on his pillow, guarding him even while she slept. McGee slept in one of those hospital chairs that looked uncomfortable, but could be surprisingly comfortable with his feet up on the window sill. Tony sat on the floor, back leaning against one side of the doorframe, legs pushed across the floor to the other side of the wide doorframe. With a smile, he recognized the other half of his guard detail. Tony was a heavy enough sleeper to sleep like that, but also light enough that if someone tried to go by him that he'd wake in an instant, alerting the others.

Except for the fact that his room looked out into a garden courtyard and was clearly on the mainfloor of the hospital, telling him he wasn't in DC, everything was as it should be.

Which meant everything would be fine.

And he could live with that.

With a sigh, he allowed his eyes to slide shut again, joining his family... blood or not... in sleep, a ghost of a smile on his face. The nightmares would come to remind him of his twenty seven hours held captive by Vasquez. Let them come - he had more than enough back up watching his six to chase them away.


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Four days later  
NCIS

The elevator pinged and Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked out towards the bullpen, his coffee in one hand and a Caf-Pow in the other. He was aware of the eyes that followed him, and that more and more eyes looked at him in shock as the others made them aware that he was back. He paid no attention to the murmurs, instead choosing to walk straight to his desk past the three bickering agents. As he sat down, he was aware of their eyes now on him as well. "Boss?" asked Tony in surprise. "I though Director Vance told you not to come back for another three days... by my count."

"I'm not here, Tony," answered Gibbs quietly. "Not officially. I had to come get something from my desk, and then I'm going to have lunch with Ducky. I have one other stop before that. I think someone is overdue something."

He picked up the Caf-Pow with a smile and walked away again, back to the elevator as he got on it, heading downstairs.

The three agents looked at each other, not able to keep the smiles off their face, whatever they had been bickering over forgotten.

*** * * ***

Gibbs paused outside the forensic scientist's door before walking in and standing behind her, waiting for her to notice him. She finally did, and, while she jumped in surprise, she smiled genuinely and accepted the Caf-Pow from him. "Don't think you can bribe me into ignoring the fact that you are here a full three days before Director Vance said you could be," she said, hugging him gently.

"I didn't think I could," he answered, before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and leaving again. "Thank you for being there, Abs."

She watched him leave, tears of happiness in her eyes. Tear of relief. Everything would be okay.

*** * * ***

He walked into autopsy shortly after that, and Ducky looked up from the table, quickly covering the man's body with a sheet. "I wish you had given me some warning," said Ducky.

Gibbs had dropped his coffee, his hands shaking at the sight, even dead on Ducky's table, of his torturer. He rubbed his face and said, "I'll clean that up."

He turned to leave and he felt Ducky's hand on his arm, "No, Jethro, come, sit outside for just a second. I will square him away and we will go get lunch."

Jethro sat gratefully in the chair that Palmer had rolled out from autopsy into the hall and closed his eyes. He was back in that cell again, in the cold, the damp. He couldn't stop shivering. Ducky laid a hand on his shoulder and Gibbs all but jumped to his feet in fear, his heart beating so fast that his breath came in short bursts. "Are you all right, Jethro?" asked Ducky, even though he didn't need to.

He could see the emotional stress in Gibbs' eyes. "Let me guess, you thought you had it under control, buried deep, perhaps even dealt with but seeing him brought it back," stated Ducky, taking his arm and leading him back inside autopsy. "I sent Mr. Palmer to inventory the van, and he's in a locker. Talk Jethro, it will help you to heal that wound."

Gibbs shook his head, but he did listen to Ducky as he talked. Eventually, Gibbs calmed and his hands stopped shaking. Ducky said, "I think it is time for that lunch, is it not?"

Gibbs nodded, and after Ducky took off the gown covering his suit, they left the NCIS building to get lunch. While the younger man was hiding it very well, Ducky could tell that he wasn't as over it as he seemed. "Listen, I know you feel you don't need it, but from what I saw in Autopsy, I think you should consider it," started Ducky.

"I don't need counseling," cut in Gibbs. "Just a bit of time."

"Then give yourself that time. Come stay with me, or stay with one of your team... or with Abby... or let one of us stay with you at your house," said Ducky. "It will put your mind at ease to have us around after your father goes back to Stillwater. Or take some vacation time and go home with your father. Perhaps the overly quiet nature that used to cause stress to you in Stillwater will be a balm. Heaven knows, your father could use your company."

Gibbs shook his head and leaned back, "Stillwater would not help me... it... would be worse."

"Fine, but for heaven's sake, don't bury it," said Ducky. "It will only cause you to shut down at the worst of times. Let us in... we're family even if not blood and you are family to us."

Gibbs nodded his agreement and rested his head on his arms. He felt Ducky's hand on his arm and the two men were satisfied to stay like that for awhile longer until it came time that they had to leave. Ducky had by then decided he was staying at Gibbs' house with him.

Little did they realize that Gibbs' reaction and dropped coffee had also been in front of Jimmy Palmer, and the MCRT and Abby already knew... having heard it from Palmer... and had decided then and there that from that point on, Gibbs house would see more life in it, whether the man liked it or not.

*** * * ***

That night Gibbs opened the door to Ducky. After the three, Gibbs, Jackson and Ducky, sat and watched TV in Gibbs living room, the door opened and Abby, with a grin, bounded in. As Gibbs stood in surprise, she dropped her overnight bag on the floor and hugged him. "Hi Gibbs!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, I figured you could use the company."

Gibbs shrugged, smiling a bit as she shared his couch and Ducky moved over to the chair. Not half an hour later, headlights shone into the living room as another car pulled into the driveway, and then another. Gibbs stood to look outside and he could see Tony and Ziva. He looked over at Abby, who was doing her best 'what? I'm innocent!' expression and knew suddenly that something was up. "Abby..." he started as there was a curt knock before Ziva and Tony entered, both shivering in the cold and shaking off the snow in his entry way. "DiNozzo... Ziva..."

"Hi boss, I brought a few movies and Ziva has the popcorn... we figured you might want some company," Tony smiled and hung up his coat and then Ziva's.

She smiled and hugged Gibbs, who was speechless.

As Ziva went into his kitchen, Tony took out out a portable DVD player from his bag and hooked it up to Gibbs' TV. Gibbs stood in the doorway between his living room and dining room in vague shock, but the activity in his living room wasn't unwelcome. He just wasn't sure how to deal with it quite yet.

For some reason, he suspected it wasn't over yet. Sure enough, about ten minutes later, he saw headlights pull up in front of his house as one more car managed to fit itself in his crowded driveway. He knew who it had to be and when a knock sounded, Gibbs opened the door to see McGee. He smiled and stood out of the way in silent invitation and McGee stepped into the house for the first time since Gibbs had been returned to them.

There was a long silent moment between the two men before Gibbs said quietly, "Great job, Tim."

It was all that needed saying, and Tim answered, "You'd have done the same for any of us..."

He was right, and Gibbs knew it. He look into his decorated... and full living room. It had been a long time since he heard happy voices instead of angry ones or sad ones. He smiled then, a full one. Perhaps... it had been too long and if Ducky hosted Thanksgiving then he supposed Christmas belonged here.

Without even knowing it, he had taken one small step towards not only healing the trauma from his kidnapping, but also previous heartbreaks.

**FINIS**


End file.
